Early Morning Birds
by Laser Lance 720
Summary: Draco couldn't hear the birds, but Hermione could. Every morning their chirping woke her. Written for the First Line Challenge


This is the outcome of combining the First Line Challenge and A Variety of Prompt Challenge. I randomly pulled up two challenges that I needed to work on, and those two had the unfortunate luck of being the ones that I set my attention onto. From there, this little piece was created.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros.

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First Line Challenge: _Bird calls were beautiful. Character B would always gush over how melodic they were- except when they woke him/her up at five in the morning. That's when they were Satan's devoted followers who enjoyed torturing poor sleepless wo/men._

A Variety of Prompt Challenge: _(Relationship) In a romantic relationship (married). _[Dramione]

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Bird calls were beautiful. Hermione would always gush over how melodic they were- except when they woke her up at five in the morning. That's when they were Satan's devoted followers who enjoyed torturing poor sleepless women.

Draco didn't understand her pain; brushing it off as yet another side effect of the pregnancy she was sporting. He couldn't hear the birds, and when he looked outside, there were none to be seen. He couldn't silence something that did not exist, yet as it was, he was awoken at precisely five each morning by a grumbling wife, demanding he Avada Kadava the birds into graves. So each morning he woke, tried to fill her demands, and suppressing the urge to shot down the rising sun that cuts its light through the trees outside, before climbing back into the bed.

"Draco…" Hermione whined, trying to roll over onto her side to face him. He was asleep, and paying no mind to her pleads. She muttered his name again, pressing the tips of her toes onto his leg in hopes of stirring them. He stirred, grumbling something that sounded like it was meant to be an insult. Brushing it off, Hermione pocked him with her foot once more. "The birds…"

"There are no birds." Draco muttered, twisting about in the bed, until he lay on his stomach, his face pressed into the pillow and mumbling something about crazy pregnancies.

"I can hear them." Hermione growled. "Go kill them."

"No." Draco cocked his head to the side so that she could get a clear view of his face. He looked tired, light grey bags building under his storm colored eyes. His hair hung lose, and in definite need of a trim. Hermione felt kind of bad for waking him so early in the morning; especially since he had been out working late the night before. "I have already looked. If you want to double check, go waddle over and look for yourself."

Hermione no longer felt bad for waking him. Huffing at his brashness, she rolled her eyes, and decided to toss her own attitude back onto him. "I have you know, Draco Malfoy, that I am pregnant. With _your_ child. I have to carry this baby for nine months. I am huge, and will have to pop this girl out in a few months. The least you can do is kill some birds for me."

"Boy." Draco muttered, a sharp grin taking to his face. They hadn't allowed the Healer to tell them the sex of the child, as they both wanted it to be a surprise. Draco was positive the child would be a boy. He was Malfoy, and Malfoy's hadn't had a girl in years. It was more likely for a Weasley pop out a girl; which was becoming a common thing as the newest generation already sported several girls, then for a Malfoy to give birth to a girl.

"She's a girl." Hermione countered, never paying much mind to Draco's logic behind the child's sex. She had heard that Weasley's never had girls, and that had been proven false at least four times now; with three new Weasley pregnancies which had yet to determine the sex of the child. Her child would be a girl, she could feel it. She was the mother of the child after all, she would know more about the child inside of her. "This baby will be a girl."

Draco continued to smirk, enjoyment dancing in his eyes as they picked up the teasing banter between them. "What makes you so sure of this, Granger?"

Hermione smiled with the way he said her maiden name. He said it with an endearing tone which always made her smile. Opening her mouth to speak, she froze when she heard the chirping coming from outside her window. Growling, she wondered if she could wandlessly murder the birds herself. Not wishing to add the murder of a family of birds onto her conscious, she laid her gaze onto Draco.

"Honey," she spoke in a tone, which made Draco quickly realize that she wasn't giving this bird thing a rest, "go kill those damn birds."

"I don't hear anything."

"I do. Heightened senses from pregnancy remember."

"More like an unstable brain from pregnancy." He muttered lowly, hoping she didn't hear his words. The narrowed chestnut glare she threw at him was clear enough that she had indeed heard. Without waiting for her to set her wrath upon him, Draco rose from the bed and made his way towards the window.

Pushing the curtains back, he scanned the trees that grew around that side of the house. He spotted nothing, unable to see the birds that were pestering his wife, and tormenting his mornings. Sighing heavily, he made to drop the curtains, into place, but stopped when the chirping reached his ears.

Sliding the window open, he glared out at the sound. Over the subtle chirping of a bird in the distance, he could hear Hermione muttering something about telling him so.

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Nothing really special or life changing. Just a little drabble to mess around with.


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